


Better Together

by miss_grey



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: ALL THE GOOD THINGS, ChocOT3, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior, Sharing Clothes, but like...in a sexy kind of way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: In a small apartment in Philadelphia, Babe, Gene, and Renee have found happiness together.  This is a collection of moments.
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Renee LeMaire/Eugene Roe
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	1. Wednesday Night Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> I needed more of them in my life. So I decided to write it myself. I hope you all enjoy <3

“No, Babe, not like that,” Renee scolded, holding back laughter, “it says ‘gently stir,’ like this.” She scooted closer and laid her hand over top of his, guiding the wooden spoon in the pot of gently boiling soup, where they’d just added their homemade noodles. He relaxed his hold and let her dictate the rhythm, moving the spoon in slow figure eights, rather than the hectic churning he’d been doing before. Okay, so yeah, she was probably right. “There we go,” she said, as Babe picked up the pattern. “You see?”

“Yeah,” Babe grinned down at her, “I think I’ve got it now.”

Renee rolled her eyes and blushed, stepping away from him to continue mixing the salad she’d been preparing. It was cute, Babe thought, how she still blushed over little things. Then again, he did too. Like now, just thinking about how happy he was to be here, safe and healthy with the people he loved. “When’s Gene getting home?”

Renee flicked her eyes to the clock above the table. “He should be home in twenty minutes.”

“I hope he likes what we made.” 

“Of course he will. You and I found the recipe and made it ourselves. Besides, it is a Wednesday. You know how much Eugene despises Wednesdays.” And he did. They both did. Hardly a week went by without Gene cursing under his breath when he came in through the door after Wednesday classes. His professor was a jerk, to put it simply. He was highly qualified and very intelligent…and also a jerk. Babe could always imagine Gene sitting in the lecture, clenching his jaw against some thoughtless comment the older man made while several of his classmates shifted uncomfortably. Renee had taken the class the semester before and warned Gene about how unpleasant it was. Now, though, they were pretty sure it was worse. Because each time Gene felt anger at the professor’s words, it was compounded by the idea that Renee had also endured it. It usually took a little while to settle him down when he returned home on Wednesday evenings; sometimes they just let him pace in the living room, cursing and muttering, ranting about how the man should never have become a teacher. After the ranting, they’d pet and soothe and guide him to the table for dinner or onto the couch for a movie, and he’d feel better after. 

They were hoping that tonight, with the new recipe, it would go much faster.

Gene took deep breaths and forced his shoulders to relax before he slipped the key in the apartment door. Inside, he was greeted by the mouth-watering scent of warm food and the wonderful sound of Babe and Renee’s laughter wafting from the kitchen. He dropped his bag and keys just inside the door and followed the lure into the kitchen where he paused, just for a moment, in the doorway. Babe and Renee sat together at the table, playing some game that had them chuckling, but they both paused when they saw him, huge smiles curling their lips. “Gene!” Babe breathed, standing quickly and coming to greet him with a tight hug. “Welcome home.”

“Happy to be home,” Gene agreed, pressing a quick kiss to Babe’s cheek before pulling back slightly. He could feel all of his frustration melt away as the sweet comfort of home replaced the bitterness of the classroom. “Renee,” Gene greeted, bending to press a kiss to her forehead. “Somethin’ smells good.”

“We tried a new recipe,” Babe said, almost giddy.

Gene smirked and flicked a glance to Renee. “And the kitchen is still in one piece?”

Renee snorted. “We’re not _that_ bad, you know. We can cook just fine without you.”

Gene laughed. “Alright. I’ll remember that one on Sunday morning when neither a’ you wanna get outta bed.”

“Now see what you did!” Babe scolded. “Now we’ll have to cook our own breakfast.”

Renee rolled her eyes. “Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s see what he thinks of our soup first.”

The first spoonful was delicious. As was the second. And the third. And after Gene told both Renee and Babe that he loved it, he knew he’d be the one waking up early on Sunday, as usual.


	2. Laundry

Room mates bickered over chores. Couples squabbled over them. Babe knew this. He knew it was a normal thing. Expected, even. Which is why it was strange that at home, they just…didn’t. 

They weren’t perfect, by any means, it’s just that up against Gene and Renee’s calm practicality and organizational skills, it was difficult for anything to prove a problem for long. Most of it never even had to be said, they all just flowed together, helping where help was needed, volunteering when peace of mind was sought, and being happy to do things for one another.

Some things were simply understood. Whoever didn’t cook was responsible for doing the dishes, though often enough, all three of them ended up lingering in the kitchen, brushing shoulders and elbows to clean and pack away left-overs, flicking water and suds at each other, pressing soft kisses to shoulders and the backs of necks. 

Renee watered all of their plants and tended to their patch of communal roof garden. Gene took out the garbage on his way downstairs for his daily run. They all tidied the apartment on Sundays after a long, leisurely breakfast. And Babe? Babe did the laundry.

It was a secret he’d never tell Bill, or his siblings, or any of the other guys, but Babe enjoyed doing the laundry. As far as chores went, it was the best. He supposed that most people didn’t enjoy hauling loads of dirty clothes to the washer and dryer but it didn’t bother Babe in the least. In fact, each part of the process was its own little joy to Babe.

There was something strangely satisfying about seeing his worn clothes jumbled together in the hamper along with Gene’s and Renee’s. It was perhaps one of the most domestic things he could think of. That at the end of a long day, they’d strip off their clothes and toss them in the same place, layered together, a metaphor for the pattern of their lives. So he didn’t mind the fact that it amounted to a lot of clothes. And he didn’t mind sorting through them, separating the whites from the colors, and the jeans from the delicates. 

The detergent they used was hand-picked by Babe, one of the hypo-allergenic varieties because Gene had sensitive skin. One time, he had spent twenty minutes in an aisle at the store, smelling the various varieties of fabric softener, trying to find the perfect, most calming scent. After settling on one that smelled like lilacs, he’d brought it home and begun using it. It was one of life’s little pleasures that Babe could press his nose to the back of Gene’s shoulder and breathe in lilacs.

After the laundry had been washed and dried, Babe enjoyed folding it, too. Of the three of them, Babe had the least stressful job where he worked at the body shop, but he still had days where his mind needed a break from the incessant tug of social media, bills, and low-level anxiety. So he put some pop music on the radio, lit one of Renee’s candles, and folded the laundry. 

There was something honest and fulfilling about bringing order to such a small part of his life. He enjoyed watching the jumble of clothes shrink as each article was folded and put in the correct pile. Renee’s scrubs and her delicate underclothes. Gene’s uniforms and t-shirts, Babe’s jeans and crazy-patterned socks. He’d carry the piles into the bedroom and carefully put them away in their designated spots. 

Each time one of them pulled on their clothes, Babe felt a small curl of satisfaction, knowing he’d done that for them, that it was one of the ways he helped to make this place a nice home for all of them. And in the mornings, when Babe pulled himself out of bed, he did so smelling like Gene, Renee, and lilacs.


	3. Nail Polish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Lysel :)

Babe lay, sprawled on the couch, with his face turned toward the wildlife documentary while his feet perched in Renee’s lap. He laughed, wiggling his toes, and said “That tickles.” 

Renee slapped his leg. “Hold still,” she admonished, “you’re going to make me smudge the polish.”

Babe pouted at being slapped but turned towards her so he could admire his toes. Renee was halfway through painting them with a glittery clear coat. They looked fabulous, the glitter catching the light of the lamp. He had to fight not to wiggle his toes again, just to see them sparkle.

Behind her, Gene sat with his legs bracketing her hips. His fingers, lean and nimble—and god, did Babe love his fingers—combed soothingly through Renee’s silky blonde hair as he worked the strands into a beautiful braid.

Babe watched, mesmerized, as Gene worked, taking his time, enjoying his task. 

Finally, Renee finished with Babe’s toes and announced “There! Now they’re extra beautiful.”

Babe smirked and tipped his chin toward her hair. “Yeah, and you are too.”

She blushed, just a soft flushing of her cheeks, and scoffed, waving him off. But then, behind her, Gene met Babe’s eyes and held them as he leaned forward and brushed his lips against the back of her neck. Renee’s eyes fluttered shut and she sighed. Still meeting Babe’s eyes, Gene smiled softly, invitingly, and Babe suddenly couldn’t wait for the nail polish to dry.


	4. Forgetfulness

It was a fairly standard morning at Bill’s Body Shop. In the yard, Bill and Toye were hard at work on their current project, some 1970s muscle car that a lawyer wanted redone to its original specs. It was a lot of work, but the guy paid well, so it was a good contract. In the garage, Luz, Perconte, and Liebgott did standard maintenance work for the handful of people who occupied the waiting room. Babe manned the front desk—his realm alone—answering calls, dealing with customers, filling out paperwork. Occasionally he jumped back into the garage if he was needed (he was no slouch when it came to cars) but for the most part, Bill had decided his sunny disposition was best put to use dealing with customers.

He’d just taken the keys from an elderly man who needed an oil change and was shuffling through the required paperwork when the bell over the door tinkled and Babe looked up, a smile curling across his lips as he caught sight of Renee. She was dressed in scrubs with her hair pulled back for work and her mouth was twisted in a chagrined half-smirk. She rolled her eyes at him as she strode up to the desk and set a brown paper bag down between them. “Gene texted me that you forgot your lunch again.” Renee informed him, huffing.

Babe blushed, embarrassed that he’d walked out of the apartment for work without the lunch that Gene had reminded him to take before he’d left for his very early shift. “Sorry,” he said, ears going red, but he wasn’t really _that_ sorry, because it meant that he got to see Renee in the middle of his morning.

“You silly man,” Renee said, reaching out to grab him by his t-shirt. He allowed himself to be reeled in. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering just enough for it to feel intimate, before she pulled back. “Don’t forget. Gene is picking you up after work today and we’re going to meet at that Japanese place he likes for dinner tonight.”

“Right,” Babe said, still dazed from the light brush of lips. “Thank you. For the lunch.”

With another eye roll, Renee said “Of course,” patted him on the cheek, and sauntered out of the office.

As soon as the door closed, the same old man who’d handed over his keys whistled lowly. “You’re a lucky man,” he said.

Babe smiled. The guy didn’t even know the half of it.


	5. Clothes Sharing

They each had their own set of drawers for their clothes, though the shared closet indicated that it didn’t mean much. Babe, Gene, and Renee were all different shapes and sizes and they all had their own unique styles. And yet, these differences seemed to pose little challenge to their mutual habit of stealing one another’s clothes.

When they’d first begun settling into this unique relationship of theirs, the occasional disappearance of a t-shirt or hoodie seemed like a simple mistake. It didn’t take long to realize that was not the case. It started, as all of this did, with Gene.

One day, he’d come back from a cool, early-morning jog wearing Babe’s favorite forest green hoodie. Babe had sat, half-asleep at the kitchen table, cradling his cup of coffee while Gene sauntered in, innocent and completely unaware, wrapped in something that belonged to Babe. Babe had stared, a bit surprised, as Gene maneuvered gracefully around the kitchen, preparing his own cup of coffee before he settled across from Babe with a soft smile and a “Mornin’.”

“Yeah. Morning, Gene.” Babe croaked, suddenly overwhelmed by the sight of Gene’s pale hands poking out of Babe’s too-long sleeves. “Is, uh…is that my hoodie?” He asked, though he knew perfectly well that it was.

“Oh. This?” Gene glanced down and plucked at the dark green material. “Guess it is. Musta grabbed it by mistake on my way out.” It sounded like an honest mistake. It wasn’t.

It happened again two days later. And again, the day after that. In fact, Gene seemed perfectly content in Babe’s hoodie. More content, almost, than in his own. If Babe mentioned it, Gene smiled softly at him and said he hadn’t been paying attention. But Babe knew that was nonsense because Gene _always_ paid attention. So, Babe simply resigned himself to sitting back and watching it happen. He didn’t _really_ mind. He loved Gene, after all, and if wearing Babe’s favorite hoodie made him happy, well, that made Babe happy too. And Gene did look good in it, even though it was a little big on him. Babe was willing to simply observe this occurrence, but he didn’t _get_ it. Not really. Not until the day he decided to steal one of Gene’s shirts.

Though they had a similar build, Gene was a bit smaller than Babe, more compact and a little shorter. Normally, one of Gene’s shirts would have stretched uncomfortably across his shoulders and chest, but Gene owned a couple old t-shirts that were stretched and faded, worn through from years of love. Babe snagged one from Gene’s dresser drawer one morning and donned it, both nervous and excited to see how Gene might react. Babe went about his business in the kitchen, making toast and coffee while Renee continued to sleep, stomach fluttering anxiously for Gene to come back. Would he find it amusing? Would he notice? Would he be upset that Babe had taken one of his things? Nothing could have prepared him for Gene’s return.

The front door shut and Gene waltzed into the kitchen, brushing a hand through his sweaty hair as usual in the morning, but he paused, feet frozen on the tile, as soon as he caught sight of Babe. Noticing out of the corner of his eye, Babe froze as well, heart leaping, and then he turned slowly toward the other man. “Gene?” He asked, wondering what sort of scolding he was in for.

Gene’s eyes, first narrowed, had widened and gone dark. He stared, as in entranced, at Babe. It was silent and tense in the kitchen for a long moment. And then Gene breathed “That’s mine.”

Babe gulped, not bothering to pretend like he didn’t know what Gene was talking about. “This? Oh, yeah. It’s comfortable. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Gene stalked up to him, like a big, graceful cat, eyes scanning the shirt stretched across Babe’s frame before fixing on his face. “Looks good on you.” He murmured.

Babe gulped as Gene continued to draw closer. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gene pressed a hand to Babe’s chest, allowed his fingers to drag all the way down to Babe’s belly. “Feels good on you, too.” Babe sucked in a breath, eyes threatening to flutter closed as Gene pressed closer to him, backing him against the kitchen counter. His pale, clever fingers toyed with the hem of the shirt before slipping under, sweeping across Babe’s hipbones and the sensitive skin of his belly. His mouth was warm and soft, but insistent, when he pressed it to Babe’s. 

Soon enough, Babe’s mind was overtaken by one of the hottest make out sessions he’d experienced so far and he thought that this whole clothes stealing business was something he could support. Apparently, wearing his clothes brought out the deliciously possessive side of Gene and Babe saw the man’s own clothes stealing habits in a new, beautiful light. Especially when, the next day, Gene lounged around their apartment in a pair of Babe’s jeans, with the cuffs rolled up. He cast Babe teasing, sultry looks throughout the day and Babe knew they were going to have an amazing night.

They would have been foolish to think that Renee hadn’t noticed what was going on. However, rather than comment on it, she simply sat back, observing and taking notes on Gene’s reactions, until one day, shortly after waking up, she walking through the middle of the living room, right past his face, wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of Gene’s boxers. The reaction was obviously exactly what she’d hoped for. 

They’d almost been late to work that day.


	6. Going to the Movies

Sidewalks were not usually wide enough for Babe, Gene, and Renee to walk next to each other, but the pathway up to the theater window was and it pleased Babe infinitely. Gene walked in the middle of their trio: on one side, Renee had folded her arms around one of his and she spoke excitedly about the new movie they were about to see. On the other side, Babe and Gene’s clasped hands playfully swung back and forth between their bodies. They hadn’t been out in _forever,_ it seemed, and they were all giddy and excited for the night. 

At the till, Renee ordered all three tickets while Gene and Babe hung back slightly because she enjoyed the quirk of an eyebrow they often got when she was the one who paid for two grown men. When she turned with a smirk, Gene rolled his eyes good naturedly at her before she handed out the tickets. 

Snacks were a serious business at the movies—Babe remembered sneaking in as much food as he and his buddies could as teenagers but nowadays they didn’t go to the movies often enough for it to be a big deal. Babe thought it’d be hilarious, though, to see someone as fine and upstanding as Gene smuggle in a box of candy under his shirt or in his jeans pockets. He thought he might try to convince him, once, just to see the look on his face at the suggestion. Babe had a feeling Renee would find it hilarious. But now they stood together in a tight-knit group, pondering their options like it wasn’t almost always the same. Gene was in the middle tonight so that meant he was on popcorn duty. Babe was trying to decide whether it was a gummy worm or chocolate kind of night, while Renee was trying to determine whether she wanted sprite or lemonade ( _you_ _could always mix ‘_ _em_ _,_ Gene had drawled). The bored teenager behind the counter didn’t harass them while they made up their minds, but they eventually settled on gummy worms and Gene’s suggestion of drink. So, armed with their drinks and snacks, they made their way into the theater. 

When they had first started dating each other, they realized one challenge that their relationship would likely always face: establishments geared toward couples. This meant that whenever they went somewhere that couples frequented, they found the facilities provided for two people and not three. Gene had frowned in consternation that first time when he’d seen the rows of paired seats, still new to the idea of a three-person relationship and Babe had felt a jolt of anxiety and couldn’t help wondering if this was a sign, if this was going to be the thing to convince Gene that it just wasn’t worth the effort. But it had been Renee, practical as always, who had shrugged and said that there were plenty of group seats and she didn’t mind them having to look just a little bit harder for something that would work for all three of them. Babe remembered in that moment feeling grateful to her and hoping that it was a sign of what was to come for them. Now they were used to it: all three of them scanned the theater for a group of empty seats and they found one about three quarters of the way from the top row. 

The three of them settled in and soon enough the lights went down and their hands tangled together in the popcorn container, which made Gene laugh. In the dark of the theater, Babe leaned just a bit toward Gene so that he could also watch his expressions during the movie and Renee snuggled in on his other side. Babe smiled. It was going to be a good night. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are love! Please let me know what you thought. Also, feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid.


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